


Eyes of Amber

by Soluvrly



Category: Immortals (2011), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soluvrly/pseuds/Soluvrly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The story progresses.</p><p>Contrition is made.</p><p>Does it fare well? </p><p>Time will tell.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ares sat on the overlook, letting his legs dangle into the aether between the mortal realm and Mount Olympus. There was much that had his attention in the mortal realm lately. Mortals were so easy to push into war that it was almost boring anymore. But occasionally, there was something that would draw the attention of the God of War. The Greeks were currently working to expand their empire to the north, a massive campaign drawing all manners of warriors to the front. For Ares, one warrior had gained his attention. He was brash, entertaining, and possessed eyes of liquid amber.

“You watch him again,” Athena said, approaching Ares quietly. 

“I do not,” Ares replied as he began to rise from where he was sitting.

With a humours glint, Athena bowed her head a bit before looking at the world, “Apologies. You were watching the battle.”

Ares glanced sideways at his sister, “Yes, the Greeks are doing well against the barbarians.”

“Well enough,” Athena admitted, watching the 'battle' herself. As any good strategist knew, not all battles were fought with swords, spears, and shields alone.

————————————

The war had began incredibly well for the Greeks. The barbarians were continually pushed further and further into their territory. A quick victory had been the regular belief until the barbarians started to push back. The current battle was in its third day and there was talk of possible retreat. The barbarians had adapted their battle tactics to resort to hit and run attacks during the day and night raids to slaughter the wounded. 

Stiles sat staring into the fire, listening to the warriors around him.

“Demons,” the warrior to his left spat out. “Sent by Hades himself. That's what they are.”

The warrior sitting next to him scoffed at the idea, “Hades? Why would Hades send demons against Greeks?”

The first warrior looked at his compatriot, “They could be his servants. They worship the shadows. Move out of them. They are demons from the Underworld. Can be no one else.”

Stiles couldn't help the snort that he let out, he tried, but it didn't stop. “The Gods care little for the mortal realm. We are...” He paused, taking a breath before looking at the warriors around the fire before locking eyes with the first to speak, “We are nothing to them. Nothing but entertainment.”

Standing, Stiles tossed what remained of his food into the fire before leaving. The warrior that was sitting across from him quickly got up himself and followed Stiles to the edge of the camp where they stared into the forest surrounding the camp.

“You shouldn't speak like that,” Scott said, “It's not good for morale.”

“This war isn't good for morale,” Stiles replied bitterly.

Scott huffed before he gave his best friend an exasperated look.

Stiles at least had the decency to look guilty. “Sorry.”

“The others look up to you,” Scott said, clapping his friend on the shoulder, “They respect you, as I do. They have come to value your views and these,” he removes his hand and gestures back to the campfire they left, “those ideas are dangerous. They will cost more lives than they save.”

Stiles sighs in defeat, Scott may be their reluctant general, but he was brilliant. Stiles lowers his head, “I'm just tired Scott. I want this to end.”

“We all do,” Scott said softly, he hated seeing his friend like this, “But we have to hope the gods grant us favour, if not...” He trails off knowing Stiles would understand.

“I'll make my contrition in the morning,” Stiles says, looking at his friend with a small smile.

Scott beams at Stiles, he never could stay mad at him for long. “All I ask, my brother,”

Laughing, Stiles turns and heads into the camp towards his tent. Hopefully tonight the barbarians wouldn't attack, allowing for the Greeks a full nights rest.

—————————

Ares laid awake in his bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep.

The form beside him stirred and drew in a deep breath before she pulled her arms under her and lifted herself up on her elbows. “You think of that mortal,” Aphrodite spoke softly, looking at Ares' face in the soft moon light.

Ares dared not speak or move, Aphrodite would see through anything over this issue, he was after all in her domain.

Sighing deeply, Aphrodite slipped out of the bed and began searching for her chiton.

“His eyes,” Ares muttered softly, sitting up in the bed, “They fill my dreams.”

Aphrodite looked at her lover as she attached her fibulae to the chiton. “His eyes?” She asked, as she walked to the foot of the bed.

“Liquid amber,” Ares answered, staring at nothing, “Golden fire.”

“Remember, Ares,” Aphrodite started as she turned to leave, “It is forbidden to visit mortals in out immortal form.”

As Aphrodite left Ares' bedroom, his eyes snapped to her retreating form and began to smile. He would follow The Law. Grabbing the other pillow, Ares flopped down on his stomach and tried to sleep. Breathing in Aphrodite's perfume helped him slip into blissful sleep of liquid amber eyes. 

—————————


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story progresses.
> 
> Contrition is made.
> 
> Does it fare well? 
> 
> Time will tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O. 
> 
> M.
> 
> G.
> 
> I feel terrible that it has been so long since I wrote. A lot has happened and it's now March and things need to change. So, here's to that. I hope you enjoy the story.
> 
> I need to plan out the next part and write it. Hopefully it won't be 6-ish months.
> 
> All mistakes are mine. Just message me about them please. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Stiles was running through the forest around the camp. His shield and weapons had been lost soon after he had started running. There was little that he could do but to keep running. He didn't know where he was or where the rest of the Greek army was anymore. All he knew were the eyes. The blue within blue eyes. Watching with a gleam from the shadows. Every time he stopped to breathe, to rest; there they were again. Watching. Stalking. Following. He was exhausted from running through the night. He didn't know how much longer he could go and backwards wasn't possible. It was where the eyes were waiting.

A snapping branch jerked Stiles' attention to his left. Someone was approaching. Stiles looked around the small break in the forest for anything to turn into a weapon. There were plenty of twigs but none appeared to be strong enough to use as a blunt object. Thinking quickly, Stiles decided that hiding would be his best option. Moving quickly, Stiles hid behind one of the larger trees opposite of where he barrelled into the clearing. Getting behind the tree, Stiles leaned back on it, closing his eyes, and doing everything he could to slow and quiet his breathing.

Standing there with his back against the tree, Stiles couldn't hear or see anything. 'Finally,' Stiles thought to himself as he sagged against the tree.

Stiles jerked awake just as a hand reached around the tree and grabbed his arm. Sitting up quickly, Stiles drew his dagger out as he processed where and when he was. Breathing hard, Stiles calmed himself down as he realized that he was alone in his tent. Angrily, Stiles returned the dagger back into the sheathe before getting up. His dream, which had been so vivid in detail, was already fading away except for the feeling of being watched. Shaking his head, Stiles washed his face with the small basin of water before he got dressed. The emotions of his dream made it all seem so real that he got lost in thought for a few moments staring at his reflection in the water.

Slapping the water, Stiles jerked himself away to finish getting dressed. He had much to do today. After getting dressed, Stiles walked over to where his armour was and grabbed a leather pouch and poured out the contents that were in it and ran his fingers across the items before putting them back and tying the cord around his belt.

Stepping out of his tent, Stiles looked around the camp that was still quiet in the early morning. As peaceful as a war camp can be in the middle of a war. Despite the atmosphere, Stiles was on edge and uneasy, the barbarians were no doubt planning something, but he didn't know what.

'Or maybe they gave up,' he thought to himself. Letting out a cynical laugh, Stiles started heading towards the temple in the centre of the camp.

As Stiles moved through the camp he noted how few soldiers were awake though the sun was up. "Apollo and his chariot," Stiles said to himself, touching the pouch as he looked towards the east. Sighing, Stiles began his trek through the camp.

As he passed through the camp, he was greeted by a few of the soldiers that were up, with more than a few curious eyes following him as he past. He normally wasn't an early riser. But no one asked and shortly, went back to what they were doing.

The 'temple' was nothing more than a pit with the eternal flame of Olympus burning. Stiles hoped it was enough to please the gods as he came upon the fire. He stood in front of it for long moments, staring at the fire and fiddling with the leather pouch.

Stiles unwound the pouch from his belt and poured the contents out again. Two little figurines and a brass coin were in his hand once again. Grabbing the coin, Stiles placed the two figurines back in the pouch and tied it back to his belt.

Looking back at the fire, he hoped his sacrifice would be sufficient for the gods he was to plead to. Fiddling with the coin, he started, "Ares... Athena," he pauses for a moment to compose himself. Taking a breath, he continues, "Grant us favour to bring a quick victory to this war and to bring as many home as possible. And forgive me for my transgressions. War is not a pretty thing," Looking at the coin, he rubs his thumb over it. Out here, in the lands beyond civilization, it was worthless metal. But to him, it was beyond measure, a coin from his father for luck and safe return. Or at the least, partial payment for the boatman.

As he tossed the coin into the fire, he continued, "May my offering appease your wrath for my words. Or at the least, limit your wrath to me. They were my words, not theirs." Taking a shuddering breath, Stiles stares at the coin as it heats before marching back to his tent.

\--- Armoury ---

With the reprieve from the barbarians, Stiles and many other troops was taking the time to get their armour repaired. Standing near the kiln where it was being reworked had Stiles drenched in sweat; he didn't know how the big man could stand it. Taking a deep breath, Stiles took a step forward to watch, he already learned not to get into the blacksmiths way with his inept help.

The banging stopped, forcing Stiles to look up into the face of the exasperated blacksmith. Swallowing, Stiles gestured outside.

Though the smithy was open to on all sides, as soon as he stepped across the threshold a spell seemed to break the heat of the kiln. The breeze instantly cooled his overheated, sweaty skin. He started to move towards the creek that the camp was set up near, a strategic necessity and weakness all in one, but right now he was just thinking of how cool it would be.

Before he could get too many steps away, a voice called out; "Stiles!" just before he was wrapped into the tight hug of his friend, Scott

Laughing, Stiles returned the embrace, "What is this about?"

"The temple," Scott answered, stepping back and waving to the armour.

Stiles just stared at his friend for a few moments; he wasn't sure how well or in which way this would go.

"What about the temple?" he asked.

Scott looked at his friend, watching the others around them. "There was plenty of talk of you going. Which is a good thing, there’s a different atmosphere now."

Stiles just shook his head at his friend, before turning and walking towards the creek, "My going to the temple had nothing to do with the atmosphere around here. That is due to getting a full nights rest."

"Well," Scott started, following in Stiles' wake, "Your visit didn't hurt things either."

"I'm going to the creek," Stiles said, changing the subject, "Will you join me?"

Scott shook his head, "No, I have to help plan the next strategy. The scouts will be returning soon."

Stiles just nodded as he headed off towards the creek, not noticing the solider with blond curls watching him.


End file.
